


for better or for worse

by mogirl97



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Married Couple, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 19:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13418232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogirl97/pseuds/mogirl97
Summary: a quiet moment after the fight (missing scene from 6x10)





	for better or for worse

**Author's Note:**

> hey friends! since there wasn’t a lot of olicity in last night’s episode I wanted to write a little “missing scene” for y’all :D

“Oww,” Oliver winced when Felicity pressed him up against the wall of their bedroom and he felt like he was being slammed down by Vigilante all over again. As he was changing out of his suit earlier he had been confronted by an array of darkening bruises marrying his skin that would be tender for at least a day or two.

  
“Sorry.” She started to pull back from him but he kept her close with the arm that was banded around her waist. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  
“It’s okay.” He caressed her cheek with his free hand, tugging her bottom lip out of the grasp of her teeth with his thumb. The dark lipstick she had been wearing was nothing but a faint stain now. “Maybe just be a little more gentle tonight?”

  
Nodding in understanding, she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, “I can be gentle.”

  
Carefully, she helped him out of his sweater and the t-shirt he had on underneath. Pain flickered in her eyes when she took in the state of his bruised flesh and he took a shuttered breath as she reached out to graze her fingertips across his chest with the barest of touches.

  
“It never gets easier,” she sighed. “Seeing you hurt.”

  
He took her hands in his, interlocking their fingers and feeling the smooth cold metal of their wedding bands press into warm skin. Despite it being something he had dreamed of for so long, he had stopped believing he would ever be so fortunate to have and to hold her as his wife. Sometimes it still caught him off guard to see a ring on her finger, to look down and see the matching one on his.

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
Her brow furrowed, “Why are you apologizing?”

  
He dipped his head, “For making you have to see this.”

  
“Oliver…” She lifted his left hand up to kiss his wedding band, “After almost six years, I was well aware when I took my vows of what the ‘worse’ in ‘for better or for worse’ was going to look like. It’s hard for me to see you hurt, yes. But it was harder when I felt like, even though you were standing right in front of me, you were a million miles away and I couldn’t do anything about your pain.”

Her eyes were on the scarred flesh that had once been the location of his Bratva tattoo.

  
He remembered. He remembered the look on her face when he returned from being tortured. Remembered the way she hovered over him while he tended to his wounds. Remembered the way her hands were tightly clasped together to keep herself from reaching out because at that point neither of them would have been able to handle her touching him.

  
She leaned in to brush her soft lips across a bruise on his collarbone and his eyes fell closed at the gesture. After an evening of being tossed around and beaten down, affection was even more heavenly. Touch with the intention of love instead of harm brought healing to not just his body but his soul. During his five years in various forms of hell, he had grown accustomed to flinching away from human contact. To be able to let himself be completely vulnerable and yet still feel entirely safe was a relief.

  
He dropped her hands so that he could let her ponytail down and run his fingers through her hair while she proceeded to attend to more of his bruises with tender kisses.

  
“I love you,” she whispered against his chest, her breath warm as it fanned out across his skin.

  
“I love you,” he echoed. He ran his hands up and down her back, “I need to feel more of you.”

  
She took a little step back so he could undo the tie keeping her dress wrapped together. When the fabric was a pile on the floor around her feet, he lifted her up and carried her over to their bed to settle her down on the mattress. His bad knee protested against his actions after being repeatedly slammed into concrete only a few hours before and he stifled a groan at the pain that shot up and down his leg. Not for the first time did he envy the metahuman ability to heal quickly and completely. The old injury would likely never stop flaring up when he took a particularly rough beating. Lying down beside her, he took a few steadying breaths while the pain subsided before rolling on top of her and bearing most of the wait on his arms to keep from crushing her. Her body felt so good pressed against his. The rise and fall of her chest, the beating of her heart, was grounding as he dipped his head to meet her lips with his.

  
With the uncertainty they faced as everything felt like it was falling apart around them, the one thing he could count on was their love. Whatever challenges were ahead, he knew they could endure them with the comfort and strength they drew from each other. And so for a few quiet moments, he could allow himself to not think of anything that lie outside of the sanctuary of their bedroom walls as they made love. He could allow himself to take off every mask he wore. He could allow himself to just be her husband.


End file.
